


What If This Storm Ends?

by QueerCrusader



Category: His Dark Materials (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Holding Hands, M/M, and they just work WELL together so dont @ me, anyway no betas we die like men, but the fic is still soft, heads up tho johns wife is of course still alive, post-episode: s2e6, some introspection, they literally clung to each other at the end of that episode, tho he's not aware the possibility does get discussed, yes i went back to check
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:15:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28119045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerCrusader/pseuds/QueerCrusader
Summary: Post-episode 2.6, so spoilers for that. Jopari and Lee holding hands.
Relationships: John Parry/Lee Scoresby
Comments: 13
Kudos: 110
Collections: John Parry and Lee Scoresby





	What If This Storm Ends?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rileylefay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rileylefay/gifts).



> This one's for Riley, who's a fucking DELIGHT who also threatened me into writing for this fandom after i pointed out to them that this pairing worked well. You're very welcome.
> 
> Based on this prompt: _“I was just holding your hand to convey sincerity and you said something I don’t have an immediate answer to, so I’m going to kiss your hand instead.”_
> 
> Title from Snow Patrol's _The Lightning Strike_.

Mr Jopari is a talker. Lee kind of likes that about him, really. The man can talk unlike anyone he’s met, including most scholars. He does it with an honesty and frankness unmatched by any other scholar he knows. Sometimes Lee wonders if that’s due to his shaman nature, or if it’s a trait he carried over from his other world. It’s perhaps why Lee was so quick to trust the man. Lee’s always been quick to accept the situation he’s been thrust into by life, but even so, the wariness he’d felt upon discovering Jopari had “summoned” him with his long-lost mother’s ring had dissipated remarkably quickly.

There’s a lot to Jopari that Lee can’t quite put his finger on. The things he says with such earnesty, and the things he doesn’t say. The calm of a man who has accepted his fate, yet carrying a broiling frustration and grief underneath the surface. The way Lee’s perception of him seems to shift with the light. That tall, dark silhouette against the doorway upon first laying eyes on him is etched into his brain, all mystery and the taste of a storm hanging around him. But then the man offered him soup and bacon sandwiches, and they shared a beer on his porch, and the shaman was reduced to a mere man grieving his family and his life decisions.

But then, he summoned that storm. Those tattooed hands had come up and raised his hood, and the skies had darkened around them. Lee had tasted that storm in the air again, spreading out from them, from _him_. And his heart had started to pound.

They’ve crashed, which probably explains the way they're sitting right now. Must be some mild brain damage involved. The men had clamped onto each other as they plummeted towards the earth, and now they sit crumpled in what remains of the basket, the empty balloon hanging down over them like a tent, keeping them dry from the continuing rain. It seems neither of them are grievously wounded, which is a goddamned miracle if Lee says so himself, but they haven’t let go of each other yet. They’re simply sitting there, listening to the rain hammering down on the canvas, counting their lucky stripes.

Their legs pressed together.

There’s plenty of space for them, even in the crumpled remains of the balloon, but yet, they seem intent on pressing every bit of the side of their bodies together. _Body heat_ , Lee thinks numbly. The storm has caused a major temperature drop. But then Jopari laughs, a little breathless and perhaps a touch hysterical, and his head drops back and hits Lee’s shoulder, and now Lee really doesn’t know what to think anymore. So he does what he always does; he goes with the flow.

“Seems your faith in my flyin’ skills weren’t completely unfounded,” he says, trying to break the ice. Jopari snorts.

“Indeed,” he replies. “You kept us remarkably alive. Not to mention in one piece. I’m truly impressed, Mr Scoresby.”

Lee presses a hand to his chest mockingly. “You wound me, Mr Jopari. How low you set the bar.”

“I mean, how long have you had that balloon? I hear you didn’t even know how to fly it when it came into your possession.”

“Hey, now,” Lee protests at that, “I’ve gotten better.”

Jopari tries to suppress a smirk at that, but he just can’t help it; it bursts through like the sun, and he laughs again, bright and brief. Lee can’t help but join him. The moment quickly fades though as he looks around to survey the damage. Without even needing to ask, Jopari seems to understand what is going on inside his head, a skill Lee wishes he shared. He would love just about anything to help him understand the enigmatic shaman better.

“You’ll patch her up,” Jopari reassures Lee. “Surely she’s seen worse.”

“Yes, but we were closer to civilisation,” Lee replies, his mood sinking further by the second. “Not to mention she was already second-hand when I got her. Who knows… maybe this is it.”

Jopari does something truly unexpected then. He grabs Lee’s hand, squeezing it. Lee looks at him in shock, seeing nothing but that fierce honesty in his gaze. “I highly doubt that,” the shaman tells him. “If we survived with such little damage, she can too.” His eyes sparkle then, and he smiles again. “Have a little faith.”

Lee nods a little numbly. This… _this_ is new. This is unlike any situation he’s been in, and he’s not entirely sure _how_ to just go with it this time. So instead he leans back and sighs, letting Jopari keep hold of his hand. It’s nice, anyway. Callused. Pretty warm, all things considered. Surprisingly dry, too.

They remain in silence for a while, listening to the rain slowly letting up to a light patter. When Lee eventually speaks again, his first words make him want to kick himself a little.

“Think your wife’s still alive?”

Beside him, Jopari freezes, but the man doesn’t let go of his hand. “It’s been years,” he replies, his voice a little hoarse.

“Not exactly a real answer,” Lee notes, and he winces at himself. Jopari just huffs.

“No, I suppose not,” he mutters. “I suppose… She could well be. My world is not any more or less dangerous than yours. Personally, I think she is.”

“But?”

“But I’ve given up on the hopes of seeing her again,” Jopari replies with a sigh. “The possibility is still there, but… the thought hurts too much, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s quite alright,” Jopari replies. He lifts their intertwined hands with a wry little smile before dropping them again. “I suppose this must be confusing.”

“Only if you have any underlyin’ intentions,” Lee points out, trying to lift the mood. It doesn’t quite come out as playful as he’d hoped.

“My feelings on the topic are… complex,” Jopari says. “It’s never going to truly be easy to navigate these things.”

“But holdin’ hands ain’t complicated?”

At that, Jopari just laughs again. He shakes his head, though it doesn’t feel like an agreement with the question. “Perhaps, everything’s a touch too complicated in my head,” he admits. “Perhaps I make things harder on myself.” His gaze grows a little horrified then.

“You’re not affronted by this, are you?” he asks, suddenly a little too eager for Lee’s liking to tug his hand back. Lee, however, won’t let him. He increases his grip, making sure the man has nowhere to go.

“If you’re lettin’ go on my account, Mr Jopari, I assure you there’s no need,” he tells the shaman.

“You don’t mind holding hands with a man caught up his own head?”

“I don’t. Not unless he minds.”

Jopari stares at him for a moment, but then he brings their hands to his mouth and presses a determined kiss against Lee’s knuckles.

Lee is staring.

He’s staring everywhere. At Jopari’s set gaze, only a hint of uncertainty and fear in them. At those tattooed, callused fingers pressing against his, twitching a little as if unsure whether to retreat or not. Not that Lee is going to let them go anywhere, mind. He’s staring at the dirt underneath his own fingernails, thinking all of a sudden, _I must taste like machine grease._ And then, _I wonder if he tastes like the storm._

“Is – was that okay-?” Jopari tries, but Lee lets out a startled huff of laughter.

“Yeah, yeah that’s swell,” he replies a little breathlessly. Besides him, Jopari seems to breathe a little easier. “Unexpected, is all.”

“Is it?” Jopari asks, and Lee can hear that tilted smile in his voice. _Oh,_ _damn_. He’s falling faster than his damned balloon.

“Perhaps you should try again.”

“The novelty will wear off.”

“Perhaps,” Lee replies with a careful smile, “a little familiarity will become welcome.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to yell at me on [tumblr](https://queer-crusader.tumblr.com/), tho heads up i don't really post HDM content there xD


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